A Wonderful Christmastime
by TStabler
Summary: December is a time of renewal, a time for family and friends to celebrate and rejoice, and a time for all of us to look back on the year we leave behind and look forward to a fresh start. Each story in this series will adhere to those themes! Annual series of Holiday themed stories! Some short and sweet, some long and torturous, and some hot and spicy!
1. Christmas Kiss

**A/N: The holiday season is here! It brought Holiday one-shots!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, I just own this story about them. Don't sue me. K?**

"A watch," Casey Novak said, the olive from her dirty martini hanging on the tip of it's toothpick-skewer as she ran it along her lips.

Olivia made a face and rolled her eyes. "He already has five watches and only two wrists," she mused. "No. Is that all you got? I need help, here!"

"Well, maybe next time, don't wait until the fucking day before Christmas to get him his present!" Casey hummed, finally popping the olive into her mouth. She chewed as she thought, and then said, "A new suit! Lord knows, the man needs one."

Chuckling, Olivia shook her head again. "The ones he has are…" she licked her lips and narrowed her eyes. "He looks amazing in them, he has a few brand new ones in his closet, anyway."

Casey's eyes glimmered as she swallowed her olive and sipped from the angular glass. "A heart attack," she said with a raised left eyebrow.

"Come again?" Olivia scoffed, then screwed up her face at her friend, crossing her arms and tilting her head. "What the hell are you…"

"You tell him," Casey cut her off and pointed a long, manicured finger, "How you really feel about him. You make it clear, you wear a skimpy little…"

"That won't give him a heart attack," Olivia interrupted, sighing and dropping her head into her hands, "It'll give him nightmares."

It was Casey's turn to scoff. "You don't see it?" She leaned closer and lowered her voice, but grew irritated. "You don't fucking see how in love with you he is?" She chuckled lowly. "We all see it. All of us. Except the two of…"

"We do!" Olivia yelled. Then she looked around nervously, hoping no one had shifted their gaze toward her. She cleared her throat, sighed softly, and slumped in her chair. "We see it, okay? We just...we know it's never gonna happen. It can't happen. He'd risk his family, we'd lose our jobs, neither of us wants to change what...what we have." She shrugged and shoved a hand into her pocket, pulling out crumpled dollar bills. She unfurled them, trying to find one large enough to pay for the lunch and drinks. She threw a folded fifty down, and then looked her friend in the eyes. "As great as I'm sure it would be, we both know…"

"Kathy left him, Liv," Casey whined, rolling her eyes. "And his kids worship you! As for work, I think you both know that nothing would happen! It's an excuse you used to keep yourselves from shoving your tongues down each other's throat years ago!"

"Classy, Case," Olivia huffed, a short burst of laughter mixing with the annoyed breath. "His kids hate me, and Kathy'll probably be back in a day or two, she pulls this shit all the time. I gotta get back to work. Call me if you have any ideas that won't get me fired or make my partner murder me, okay?"

Casey swallowed the last sip of her martini, shook her head, and looked up at Olivia as she stood by the table to put her jacket on. "I'm telling you, the best gift you could give him...and yourself... is honesty. Lay your cards on the table and see if he checks or raises."

Olivia laughed again, this time in pity, then dropped her hands into her coat pockets and walked away from Casey, out of the bar, and into the city winter.

"Jesus," she shivered, immediately zipping up her coat and shrugging her shoulders up against her ears. "Fucking cold as fuck!" She sped up, walking with longer strides and quicker steps until she rounded the corner. Stopping in her tracks, her body went from frozen solid to unbearably hot, her face reddened, her throat and mouth went dry.

On the steps of the precinct, her partner and his wife stood on either side of a lawyer they'd worked with a few times, one of the youth and family services attorneys. She tried to swallow, her sawdust tongue almost making her choke. She gasped and coughed when his head turned, his eyes meeting hers, his lips curling into a smile, his hand coming up high to wave her over to him.

"Great," she spat, kicking at the small pile of snow at her feet, and she shuffled across the street toward the trio of people she'd really rather have bypassed. She nodded at him, but turned to the lawyer first. "Bill," she said, "You need us? A kid or…"

"No, no, Benson," Bill Parker, Attorney-at-Law said with a smirk. "This is, uh, personal." He gestured to the two people perched at his sides.

Olivia turned her head, offering Kathy a polite smile. "Hi,Kathy," she said with a small nod and chattering teeth, her shivering coming back in full force.

"Afternoon, Liv," the blonde said, smiling back. "I don't…" she looked at her husband, because at the moment Elliot was still her husband. "We…" she shot her gaze back to Olivia. "We don't blame you. We both know how hard you tried to keep this from happening."

"Keep what from…"

"Liv, uh," Elliot scratched a spot behind his ear as his weight shifted fully to his right foot. He looked like a child about to confess to stealing cookies out of the jar. "Divorce." He wagged the finger that had been digging at the skin of his neck back and forth in the space between himself and Kathy.

Olivia pressed her lips together, keeping them in a flat line, as her eyes widened and her heart thudded against her chest. "Wow," she breathed. "I'm sor...what? Wow, sorry, I'm...I'm sorry."

Elliot laughed and nudged her with his elbow. "Are not," he said in a whisper, his head turned and tilted down to her.

She whipped her head toward him, meeting his amused eyes. Her own narrowed, but when he winked at her, she felt the heat rise again, and she wondered briefly if the constant shift in body temperature would give her pneumonia. "You're...this is happening?"

"Already happened," Elliot shrugged with a crooked grin. "The night Kathy left the house...the signed papers were in the safe, I brought them down to the courthouse the next morning, it's been a few weeks, so we are…"

"Hey!" Cragen's voice yelled, echoing through the alley as he leaned out the window of his office.

Olivia and Elliot, along with Bill and Kathy, looked up at him sheepishly.

"You two planning on coming back to work any time soon?" Cragen asked snidely, unconcerned with the other people down below. "Your lunch hour was over long ago, we're two down tonight, and there's a body on Warner's slab getting colder by the minute, waiting for you two to stop fucking around!"

Elliot looped one hand around Olivia's back as he nodded at Kathy and Bill and said, "Thanks, we'll be in touch."

"Fifty-fifty, right? The whole way?" Bill looked at Kathy first, and then Elliot, and when he was answered with happy affirmations, he whistled and strutted down the steps, heading back to his office.

"I won't…" Kathy started, calling up to Elliot as he led Olivia up the steps. When he turned to look at her, her smile faded, her words soured. "I won't come tonight or tomorrow. I'll give them Christmas." A single tear fell and she swiped it away coolly. "But Wednesday, I'm coming to get the rest of my things, and we need to put the house up…"

"Yeah," Elliot stopped her, "But as you said, you'll give us Christmas."

"Don't make me regret this, Elliot," Kathy said softly. "Do what you need to do, tonight, because if you don't get what you want, we can…"

"Even if I don't," he cut into her words, "This is still the right thing, Kath. I'm not stopping this if...well if I don't get...my pony."

"Figured as much," Kathy laughed, more tears slipping down her cheeks. She waved and smiled at Olivia, and then turned to leave. She didn't look back once.

"So you're getting divorced," Olivia said, turning to look at him.

He moved closer, his hands slipping around her waist, a sneaky smile spreading across his face. "I am," he said sternly. "I, uh, I kind of promised myself something, that I would get myself something for Christmas, and I couldn't...unless…"

"Oh, Christ," Olivia huffed, pushing herself away from him. "You talk to Novak? She put you up to this?"

Elliot stared at her, confused and hurt, as he watched her pulling on the door handle. "No, I...I wouldn't talk to Novak outside of a courtroom! Well, you know, unless our lives depended on it." He ran up the last few steps and cupped his hand over hers, keeping her from opening the door and going into the building. "I promised you, a long time ago, that I would never lie to you. You asked...this is me answering." He took a deep breath. "I couldn't stay with her, not when she kept leaving and coming back like me and the kids were some park she had season tickets to, ya know? Besides, it wasn't fair...to us. For me to be trapped in a loveless marriage when I was really...when I am...in love with…"

The door shot open with such force, it knocked Elliot over, the man rushing by so fast he was little more than a blur.

"Oh, my God," Olivia leaped over to him, kneeling down beside him. "Are you okay?" Her hands ran over his face and chest, looking for any sign of damage. "He didn't hit you, did he? I swear if he…"

Her words were stopped by his lips. A kiss that once again took away the chill and filled her with pure warmth.

His mouth caught her gasp, his tongue took advantage of her parted lips and snuck in, deepening the kiss as his hands wound around the back of her head and tangled in her hair. Slowly, and with a frustrated moan, he pulled away. "Cragen's gonna kill us for taking our sweet time, here." He kissed her again, twice, quickly and softly.

She helped him get to his feet and stared at him. "What the fuck did you just…"

"Kissed you," he said, a single nod. "Couple of times." He tugged on his tie and then pulled her jacket zipper up higher for her. "That's...what I wanted for Christmas. You." He took her smile and bright eyes as permission and then moved in to kiss her again. He moaned against her lips, looping his arms around her and pulling her into him, as snow began to fall around them. Soft flakes landed on their heads, pooled at their feet, and even caught on their skin, melting on contact. He pulled back slowly, looking up with a chuckle.

Flakes fell into his eyelashes and landed on her nose, and they shared a moment of nervous laughter. "So," he asked smugly, pulling her even closer, nuzzling her nose with his, "What did you get me for Christmas?"

Her eyes darkened, her breath hitched, and as she moved in to kiss him again, she whispered, "A heart attack." She winked at him and kissed him slowly, leaving him to wonder what, exactly, she meant.

 **A/N: A tame and mild start to what is going to be a rough and spicy series! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Nice to be Naughty

**A/N: There's something exciting about ending up on Santa's naughty list. ;)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, I just own this story about them. Don't sue me. K?**

"Goodnight, sweetie," Olivia said with a smile, flicking down the light switch and slowly closing the door to Dickie's room. He was Elliot's only son, and he bore such a strong resemblance to his father, in features and personality. Olivia had a soft spot for him, which often led to her trying to defend him or get him out of trouble. Tonight, she did just that, and it was all because of Santa Claus.

The One-Six had its annual "Secret Santa" party for the department families, and of course, Elliot had brought all four of his kids. The night had been wonderful until it was time for the kids to take pictures with Santa. Dickie had been last in line, tired and cranky, and at the age where he doubted that Santa could be in two places at once, "And he's already at Macy's, so who's this guy?"

He'd finally sat on Santa's lap, and just as the pointy-eared elf had raised the camera, Dickie had grabbed the man's fluffy white beard and yanked, hard. Gasps had echoed through the room as Captain Cragen had tried to reattach the cotton and thread to his chin. Dickie had pouted and mumbled, "I knew it," as he'd slid off Santa's lap and skulked away while other children, some much younger than him, had cried and screamed and listened to their parents explain that Santa had shaved for the summer and his beard hadn't grown back yet, so he'd improvised.

Elliot had been mortified, and though he did try to understand where his young son was coming from, he was still angry. There was yelling, grounding, and the promise of a week's worth of extra chores. Elliot had been blabbering about Dickie being on Santa's naughty list when Olivia had stepped in, looked Elliot right in the eyes, and said, "You can't fault him for needing proof, for needing validity. He is your son, he's got detective in him! Besides, he was hoping to prove himself wrong! He didn't mean to cause such a mess."

The yelling had stopped, the grounding had been ignored, the extra chores had been whittled down to two extra days of table and dish duty, and Dickie had gone to bed calm and happy, after hearing Olivia's "completely true" story of Santa's phone call to the station, personal assurance that no one in the Stabler house was on this year's naughty list, and his promise to be there in person next year.

Olivia sighed, the memory caught up to her reality, as she took the last step off the landing and turned into the living room. "He said he was…"

"I know," Elliot whispered, stopping her words, and he stepped in front of her, framing her body with his larger, stronger one. His eyes stared into hers while his chilled hands smoothed up the sides of her neck. She shivered at his touch, making him smirk a bit, and cupped her cheeks. Swiping his thumbs softly under her eyes, he sighed. "Did I tell you how beautiful you looked, today?"

She licked her lips and nodded. "Twice," she told him.

"Not nearly enough," he muttered, and he pulled her toward him, his lips finding hers fast and catching the soft moan she let escape.

She moaned again, this time sinking into him, and wrapped her arms around him, her palms spreading at his lower back. She felt herself being moved backward, chuckling at Elliot's blind eagerness as he tripped over something on the floor. She let out a soft huff when her body hit the back of the couch, and her eyes opened when he stopped kissing her.

He grinned smugly at her puppy-eyed pout, lifting one finger to press against her lips as his other hand worked his tee shirt out of his jeans. "You know," he said, running the pad of his finger along the seam of her mouth, "You lied to him." His breath hitched when she kissed his finger, the gesture hitting spots inside of him he'd only just found out existed. Taking a breath, he pulled his hand away from her face to work his belt loose. "There is someone in this house on the naughty list."

"You?" she guessed, her eyes dropping when she heard the heavy denim hit the floor. She licked her lips anticipating his next move, letting her gaze rise back to his smokey stare. She watched him nod slowly, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and she felt her pulse quicken. He had an incredible effect on her, since the moment they met, but as their relationship changed and progressed, it grew stronger. She reached out a hand and twisted the fabric of his tee with her fingers, pulled hard, and crashed her lips against his.

It was his turn to moan, doing so lowly and gravelly, as his hands worked her black leggings down over her hips roughly. He mumbled something she could barely understand as they kissed, and he caught her gasp in his open mouth. With another dark laugh, he swiped two of his fingers through her rapidly wettening folds, making her moan louder and breathe faster. "Shh," he teased, "We got sleeping kids upstairs."

She slapped his ass at that, earning herself more of a reason to moan as it goaded him into pushing his fingers into her. Feeling him twist made her body tighten, she dug her nails into his back and hooked her ankles, her legs wrapped around him. "Jesus," she whimpered, feeling him add another finger to the mix.

He moved his kissing lips lower, finding her throbbing pulse at her neck, and began to suckle at it while his hand worked faster, deeper, harder. He nipped lightly at her neck, his teeth grazing the undulating vein beneath her skin. "Baby," he cooed, "Cum for me. Don't fucking fight it." He twisted his wrist, curled his fingers, and rubbed the pad of his thumb against her clit, over and over. "Cum for me, damn it," he whispered, right into her ear.

It was her undoing. His vulgarity always turned her on, it followed him from the iterrogartion to the bedroom, and his dominance always came out to play when she needed it the most. He always just seemed to know, instict and pure love guiding him. She heard him demand it from her, yet again, and she let go, her body on fire as it bucked and arched in his arms, crescent shaped marks growing red and angry on the skin of his back.

Victoriously, he chuckled again, pulling his fingers out and away and bringing them to his lips. Silently, he stared into her eyes, making sure she was watching as he sucked everything she'd given him off of each finger, slowly. He pressed his lips together and nodded once, telling her that she had a job to do, now.

Eagerly, she gripped him and stroked, agonizingly slow, her eyes glued to his face as it contorted into masks of pleasure, frustration, weakness, and adoration. She used his body to gain leverage, lifting her hips and guiding him into her. "Elliot," she whispered, biting the corner of her lip coyly.

Again, he looked into her eyes, this time with smokey warmth and something undefined. He thrust his hips in slow motion, inching his way into her, making sure she could feel every moment on its own. He shivered, his muscles giving way to his emotions, and he trembled when he felt her stretching around him. "Fuck," he breathed, and he shut his eyes, allowing himself to fully feel her, the way she pulsed around him, the way he fit tightly but perfectly.

"God, please…" she whimpered, drapingher arms over his shoulders again, "Baby, please…" she arhed her back a bit, urging him in deeper, trying to make him move.

He lifted his head, catching her eyes, and he smiled at her as he leaned over. He kissed her, one hand hooking the back of her neck, the other resting at the small of her back to keep her in place on the back of the sofa. He thrust, then, causing them both to cry out each other's name.

He picked up the pace, his hips moving faster and hitting hard into her. Their kisses grew deep, frantic, almost desperate, and the words spoken on the heels of quick breaths were caught on heated tongues. "Shit," he mumbled, hearing clomping above his head, one of the kids out of bed. He listened arefully, satisfied that whichever child it was wasn't heading downstairs, and he worked even harder, even faster. "Forgot," he spat.

"What?" she moaned, dropping her head back and feeling her toes curl, her legs tighten.

He kissed her exposed neck and then licked a long trail to the spot just behind her ear. "We aren't at your place," he breathed, and then sucked her earlobe into his mouth. He nibbled for a moment and then let it go with a small pop. He slammed into her twice, slow and hard, before he felt her start to break. "Baby," he moaned, losing his resolve and his patience. "So fucking good. So close."

All she could do was hum, agreeing with him, and with another of his powerful thrusts, her body dropped backward. "God, Elliot," she cried, and she felt him pull her upright.

"Look at me," he demanded, knowing he wasn't going to be able to last much longer, needing her to cum first. "Baby, eyes open, look at me." He watched her lashes flutter, her lids slowly open, and when she looked at him, a drugged and hazy expression in her eyes, he slammed his lips over hers, pried her mouth open with his tongue, and made sure to bury himself fully with each hard hit of his hips.

Her cry was swallowed by his kiss as her body lost the battle. Trembling against him, she felt her entire body burn as she came, whimpering into his mouth and her hands clutching whatever flesh of his they could.

"Fuck," he hissed, her tightness locking him in, her pulsing bringing him that last bit over the edge. He jerked and spasmed as he shot off, firing into her, whte fire behind his closed eyes. He tried to move again, sliding out of her and back in as they were both still in the midst of release, making their voices break and seethe. Finally he gave one last thrust and stayed, holding her damp and vibrating body against his. Her legs shook as they remained locked around him, her chest beat strongly against his.

And then, stillness.

Silence.

Heavy breathing.

Soft kisses.

And then he pulled her off of the couch and carried her around, dropping onto the cushions. He laid back and yanked the blanket down and around their sweaty, sticky bodies, and kissed her one more time. He let his head drop limply to the side, still trying to catch his breath and slow his pounding heart. "Hey," he whispered. He tried to look at her, her head resting on his chest, her lips curled into a lazy smile. "It's after midnight, it's officially Christmas Eve. I'm out of time."

"For what?" she asked softly, finding his senstive cock with her fingers. She smirked wickedly as she lightly ran her fingertips up and down his thick length, making him moan and twitch.

"God," he groaned, "Can't get back on Santa's nice list, now." He dragged his nails up and downher back, teasing her the way she was him, wondering who'd crack first.

She lifted her head and scooted up, kissed him once, and said, "Oh, you've definitely been a naughty boy, Stabler," she winked at him, "But I think...Santa knows that if anyone deserves a present, it's you, even when you're not on his 'nice' list. There's always next year."

He kissed her again, a bit deeper, a bit longer. "Nah. Not getting on the 'nice' list next year, either," he said to her, "And I have a feeling, you're not either." He wagged his eyebrows and felt her hand move again, and he laughed.

They were definitely being put on the 'naughty' list.

 **A/N: Next one involves a little Christmas magic, from an unexpected source.**


	3. New York Miracles (part one)

**A/N: Christmas is a time for miracles. The lucky ones get more than one.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, I just own this story about them. Don't sue me. K?**

"You were a little aggressive in there, Stabler!" The tinny voice of ADA Alexandra Cabot scolded, hitting Elliot's red ears.

He turned sharply, pointing a finger at the blonde, his nostrils flaring and a vein in his neck throbbing like a kick-drum. "Yeah! I was doing my job, and yours!" He chuckled bitterly. "I was trying to get this over with! It's fucking Christmas Eve, I have a family! We have plans!"

Cabot blinked once as she ran a hand down her navy blazer. "I can't help the timing of this case! Maybe you need to take Cragen up on the department anger management classes!"

"Maybe your personal stake, here, is clouding your judgement!" Elliot shouted in return. His black suit crinkled a bit at the sleeves as his arms flailed in frustration. "That it? Huh? You don't wanna push too hard because the longer this case carries on, the more you can stare at my ass, that it?"

"Excuse me?" Olivia crossed her arms, her own blue suit jacket wrinkling as she did. Her eyes twitched, her temper rearing its head, and she gave both Elliot and Alex harsh, wide eyed looks.

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Elliot raised one brow as he turned his head toward his partner. As he fished his phone out of his pocket, he said, "Thought she told you everything." He tossed his phone to Olivia.

Olivia caught it deftly, tapped in the password, and guessed she was meant to read text messages. After finding the ones Elliot alluded to, she cleared her throat and shook her head. "I know why she didn't tell me this," she said, handing Elliot's phone back to him.

"I can…" Alex flinched when Olivia snapped, interrupting her.

"Explain? Save it!" Olivia looked from the blonde to Elliot. "How long?"

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "How long? How long, what, you think I'm fucking her? You really think I'm having an affair with Cabot? Are you out of your fucking…"

"How long has she been sending you those?" Olivia yelled.

"Since my divorce was finalized!" He hollered back. "You notice, I never answered them?" He stepped toward her, lowered his voice, but whispered harshly. "Never. Well, I mean, fucking once, just to tell her to…"

"Fuck off," Olivia nodded. "I read it." She took a short breath and looked at him with worry in her eyes. "I know why she didn't tell me she was into you, but why didn't you?"

The gravel left his voice, leaving behind mellow buttery smoothness. He licked his lips and spoke. "I was going to, after the holidays. This? It would've ruined Thanksgiving, I damn sure wasn't going to let it destroy Christmas, or…"

"Oh, it's already destroyed," Olivia chuckled stiffly. "Spent the day before Christmas in court because our ADA needed an excuse to spend quality time with you. Now there's no time to...forget it." She sent another biting glance toward Alex, then shoved her hands in her coat pockets and stormed off, down the hall, out of the courthouse, into the snowy night.

"Great," Elliot huffed, dropping his head and rubbing his forehead with one of his rough hands. "Fuck." He heaved a heavy sigh and slowly turned his head, glared at Alex, and asked, "Happy now?"

Alex crossed her arms and bit her lip. "Of course not! I didn't want her to react that way," she said, "That's why I never told her how I feel about you." She looked down at her black high heels on the tile courthouse floor. "I know...I know how she feels about you, and I guess I just thought…" her head popped up. "I'd give you options, let you choose. I never wanted to make any kind of play for you in front of her, Elliot."

"Alex," he rolled his eyes. "I told you, when you first started this shit, that I was seeing someone."

Alex peered at him from behind her glasses. "You weren't just trying to play games, were you? You really were...wait, were you cheating on Kathy?"

"No, Jesus!" He looked at her, his eyes stern and his lips in a flat line. "Kathy and me...we were over a long time ago, okay? The divorce was finalized a month ago, but she left in January, last year! I've been with my...girlfriend...since last Valentine's Day."

"You've been seeing her...for…" Alex went fully white. "How long?"

"Two years," he nodded. "In two months."

"That's why you...why you asked Liv if she thought you were having an affair with...well, me, I guess." Alex takes her fingers through her blonde hair. "She knows you're already involved with…" she blushed and ran one hand down her cheek. "You never answering any of my messages so I just thought maybe the kids were around or you wanted to tell me in person. I thought you were trying to…"

"I was hoping you'd get the hint," he interrupted. "I never answered you, not the way you wanted me to! I was trying to be civil, here, because I'm not the kind of guy to get pushy and violent outside of work." He smirked. "Well, unless she asks."

Alex chuckled and then looked at him apologetically. "Do I know her?"

Elliot bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah," he whispered.

Alex opened her mouth to say something but a large man in a brown suit ran toward both of them. "Hey! Verdict is in!" The man waved them over and rushed back into the courtroom.

Alex shot Elliot a stunned look and followed in the other lawyer's footsteps.

"That was fast," Elliot said with wide eyes. He grinned and looked at his watch. "We'll have time to…"

"It's a Christmas miracle," a cool voice spoke from behind him.

He turned and smiled at her. "Forget something?"

Olivia nodded and took a step closer to him. "I forgot that you have the keys," she said. "And I forgot to tell you...we need to stop somewhere on the way home. We need to get one more ornament for the tree."

Elliot squinted. "You want to go into a store, for a tree ornament, on Christmas Eve, are you crazy?"

"No," she smiled and leaned closer to him. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh, well that explains the cravings you've been…" he paused, coughed as he realized what she'd said, and his eyes popped open. "What? Are you...you're...what?"

She laughed as tears sprang to her eyes. "You heard me," she wiped her cheeks and moved another step toward him.

"No, no, baby," he said quickly. "Say it again."

She sniffles and whispered, "I'm pregnant."

"Now, that's our Christmas miracle!" He kissed her forehead, both cheeks, and her lips, once. "When? How? Why didn't you…"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "I found out this morning, I was gonna tell you when we got home, but then you yelled at the judge, and Alex…"

Her words were stopped by his lips. He kissed her with everything he had, his arms wrapped around her tightly, and he lifted her off the ground, spun her around, and laughed against her lips, the love clear.

Alex stood by and watched, the realization on her face, no hint of surprise at all. "I, um," she spoke, breaking them apart. "Well, first, I'm guessing she's the girl you've been seeing?" She watched Elliot nod and then, sadly, she smiled at him. "Guilty on all counts. You can both...go home. Merry Christmas." She walked past them as their laughter hit her ears.

"Yeah," Elliot said, grinning broadly. "Merry Christmas."

Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, thinking about the present on the bed at home, waiting to be unwrapped at midnight.

It was going to be a very Merry Christmas, indeed.

 **A/N: That evening? Next!**


	4. New York Miracles (part two)

**A/N: Christmas is a time for miracles. The lucky ones get more than one.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, I just own this story about them. Don't sue me. K?**

"It smells...so fucking good in here," Elliot hummed softly, stepping up behind Olivia and wrapping his arms around her.

She laughed as she dropped her head backward, letting it hit his chest, and said, "Ham and turkey, stuffing, twice-baked potatoes, and two pies in the oven," she listed, "Not to mention the real tree, cinnamon pine cones, and peppermint oil you put in the diffuser."

"Smells like Christmas," he said as he smoothed her hair to one side, and then he kissed her neck softly, twice. "Hasn't smelled...or felt like Christmas around here in so damn long," he told her.

"Last Christmas was great!" she barked, tilting her head up to look at him.

"We spent it at a motel in Jersey," he reminded her dryly.

She laughed and kissed his chin. "Was still great," she told him. "It was the first time we were all …" her face fell, her eyes turned downward. "I know it was the kids first Christmas…" she trailed off, not wanting to say what would bring up some painful memories.

He finished her thought. "Without Kathy," he kissed her cheek, "But they had you. I had you. You were right. It was great."

"Dad!" Maureen ran into the living room, the lights on her sweater blinking rapidly, as her little brother chased after her. "Dickie broke the…"

Dickie slapped his hand over his oldest sister's mouth, struggling to balance on his toes as she tried to jump out of his reach. "...the record for ugliest sweater!" he yelled. He smiled proudly and pointed with his free hand to the twinkling lightsabers on his Star Wars themed ugly sweater.

Maureen grunted and ripped Dickie's arm away from her face. "The lamp in your bedroom."

Elliot tilted his head and clicked his tongue. "Why were you in our bedroom?" he asked, raising one brow at his son.

Dickie bit his lip, his twelve-year-old brain thinking of the best way to put it. "It's, um, it's a surprise."

Olivia and Elliot looked at him, and then at each other, and then bolted up the stairs, knowing that anytime one of the children said they had a surprise, it cost a thousand bucks to fix. Elliot reached the door first and rounded the jam, but then froze. He wobbled a bit as Olivia slammed into his suddenly still frame, then poked her head under his arm. "What did he…"

They were speechless. The room was rearranged, the bed shifted to the left, and a new, white, wooden crib stood on carved legs against the wall. There was a mobile attached, pastel-colored stars and planets, and a patchwork teddy bear perched on a white pillow and blanket.

"Oh, my…" a sob swallowed her last word as Olivia placed one hand over her heart and moved further into the room. "How did you…" she turned, looked at Dickie, and said, "Honey, how did you…"

"It was all of us," Dickie said, kicking his feet on the plush carpet. His sweater blinked red and blue as he moved. "When Dad called and told us…"

"We called Uncle Eddie," Maureen said sheepishly. "He said he knew this was gonna happen, and then we asked him if…"

"We told him we'd pay him back," Dickie interrupted. "And before you say anything, we know it's a while,yet, we just wanted to let you know that we're excited." He bit his lip again. "I'm sorry about the lamp. I knocked it over when I moved the bed."

Olivia wiped her eyes, sniffling in time with the blinking red nose of the reindeer on her sweater, and she pulled the young boy into her arms. "It's just a lamp," she whispered to him. She kissed the top of his head and smiled at him. "The two of you...you tell your sisters that this is...absolutely beautiful."

Dickie's eyes fluttered quickly. "You're not mad?" He looked at his father, who was also wiping his eyes.

"No, kiddo," he said, shaking his head. "We're not mad. Not at all." He gave his son and daughter a hug, hiding his reddening face, and ushered them out of the room as the fluffy dog on his sweater began to bark Jingle Bells.

Laughter followed them down the hall, down the steps, into the living room where a small group of people stood, wearing their own hideously cheerful sweaters.

"Great," Olivia chuckled, wiping her eyes again. "Of all the times for them to be early."

Elliot snorted under his breath and took her hand, leading her toward the guests. "Hey, guys!" he chortled. "One of the kids take your coats?"

Munch nodded. "Kathleen," he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "We hear congratulations are in order."

Olivia turned to Ed Tucker, her eyes narrow. "You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?"

Ed's eyes widened. "What?" I didn't say shit, Benson!" He slapped the bell-laden tree on his sweater, making it jingle.

"You're the only one who knew!" Olivia spat, one hand on her fluffy sweater, the other gripping Elliot's hand even tighter. "Besides the kids, and…" she gasped, turned toward Elliot. "Alex?"

"She wouldn't," Elliot scoffed, shaking his head.

"It's all over the news," Munch spoke, staring at Olivia. "Fastest jury turnaround this term."

Fin piped up, then. "Yeah, the reporter said something about you two, called you impassioned detectives, proving more than the lawyers."

Olivia exhaled deeply, shooting an apologetic glance at Tucker, and said, "Well, that was...that was all him."

"Couldn't exactly do it by myself," Elliot quipped, the double meaning not lost on Olivia. He smirked as she leaned in to kiss him, a laugh melting on their meeting lips. The doorbell rang, breaking them apart, and they both moved to the door, leaving Munch, Tucker, and Fin to talk amongst themselves.

Elliot grabbed the knob, turned and pulled, and his joyful "Merry Christmas" died on the first syllable. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," the blonde told them. She held out a foil covered pie plate.

"I assumed you'd realize, after today, the invite had been revoked." Elliot shielded Olivia with one arm as he talked to Alex Cabot. "But...it's Christmas, and as long as you don't start any…"

"I'm sorry," she said, cutting him off and shrugging. "For everything. I didn't know you two were...serious."

Olivia pressed her lips together before saying, "Even if we weren't, Alex, you knew. You knew how I felt. As my friend, you…"

"I couldn't ignore my own feelings for your sake," Alex said, but then she closed her eyes and exhaled. "But...I can now. I will." She blinked once.

"Thank God for that," a voice from behind her spoke. "If I have to look past it for the sake of my job, you should be able to."

Elliot and Olivia laughed and leaned into each other. "Hey, Cap," Elliot said, saluting at Cragen.

"Nice sweater," Olivia said with a chuckle, pointing to the blinking red and blue lights of the police cruiser on Cragen's shirt.

Cragen rolled his eyes. "You wanted Ugly Christmas Sweater, you got it." He walked up the few porch steps and kissed Olivia on her cheek, then shook Elliot's hand. "Thanks for this," he said, looking into the younger man's eyes. "We belong together on days like this. Family." He turned to Olivia. "Growing family, right?"

Olivia's breath hitched. "How did you…"

"I'm a detective, too, remember?" He smiled at her. "I could tell. Rudolph's sweater isn't the only thing that's glowing." He winked and made his way inside, pulling off his trench and hat and handing them to Kathleen.

Alex, still out on the porch, cleared her throat. "Am I welcome, here?"

Elliot sighed, looked at Olivia. He kissed her softly, his hands moving to the very small swell of her blinking belly. He pulled back, turned toward Alex, and smiled. "You're lucky I'm in a good fucking mood, tonight." He stepped aside, letting her into the house. "Merry Christmas, Alex."

Alex smiled, nodded, and walked toward the larger group of colleagues that had become family, leaving Olivia and Elliot kissing under the mistletoe on the porch, letting their miracle envelop them, as the lights on their sweaters blinked and twinkled.

 **A/N: Next, someone gets caught playing reindeer games...but by whom?**


	5. The Last 5 Years

**A/N: Christmas memories are often the ones that shape our lives, some amazing, some terrible, but all for a purpose.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, I just own this story about them. Don't sue me. K?**

 _ **Christmas, Year One**_

"It's her first Christmas with the unit," Elliot said, his head plopped into his hands. "Of course I invited her. She is a part of…"

"Two weeks doesn't make her a part of anything!" Kathy snapped. She took a breath, then, knowing why she was so angry, but knowing that her husband was right. "In two weeks...you're closer to her than any partner you've ever had. Why is that?"

"I'm not sleeping with her," he said flatly, stunned at the mere implication in his wife's words. "You really think that I would…"

Kathy held up a hand. "I wouldn't, but I'm not blind, and you're only human, Elliot." Her hand dropped and she sighed as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. "And we haven't exactly been…" she bit her lip and her eyes shot downward. "I wouldn't blame you if…"

"Hey," Elliot moved one hand under Kathy's chin, lifting it slightly. He smiled at her. "I would never, ever cheat on you." His eyes flickered as the doorbell rang, and he let his hand fall away from her.

"No, but even your Catholic commitment can't stop you from…" she cleared her throat. "You spend a lot of time with her, she's all you talk about!"

"She is my partner," Elliot said coolly, his eyes peering to the side to see who'd been let into the house by his oldest daughter. "I need you to be nice to her."

"Of course, I have no reason not to be nice to her," she said, eyeing her husband.

Elliot smirked, taking his first step out of the kitchen. "Just like I don't have any reason not to be nice to Dr. Berkley, right?"

She gasped as Elliot walked out of the room, feeling a cold rush through her veins.

He knew.

 _ **Christmas, Year Two**_

"You should be with your family," Olivia reached for the glass in front of her, grabbed it, and tossed the drink back. She made a face as she swallowed. "It's Christmas." She scoffed and added, "Well, in two hours, anyway."

"I'm not leaving you alone in a bar," Elliot sneered at her, plopped down on the stool next to her, and said, "Not just because it's Christmas. I wouldn't leave you alone like this...ever."

She signaled the bartender, and then pointed to her empty glass When he nodded, she turned to look at Elliot. "I'm not telling you again...just go," she said, waving him off. "Your kids…"

"Are asleep," he interrupted. "It's after eleven, they have bedtimes." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What's bothering you? You've been in this...I guess it's a mood, for weeks. I've been asking you to come over for Christmas, and you keep making excuses. You're avoiding my calls, you won't answer my texts, just tell me what I did!"

"Nothing," she whispered, closing her eyes. She inhaled sharply as the bartender placed her drink in front of her, and she wrapped a hand around the glass. "I'm sorry, I just…" she paused, she took a sip of her drink. "I thought we just needed...space."

"Space?" He chuckled in bitter jest, rubbing his forehead. "You and me? That's...that is the most ridiculous thing you've ever said. Liv, you're my best friend! My partner! I don't need or want any kind of distance between us! You know that!" He coughed once. "These last few weeks, thinking you were mad at me, feeling like you hated me...it's killing me."

"It's been killing me, too," she spoke, her voice wavering as tears began to well up. She sniffled and shook her head. "I'm not mad at you, I don't...I don't hate you. God, I couldn't hate you if I wanted to."

"Then what...what made you think I needed space?" He furrowed his brow, one hand tugging on his black and gray checkered scarf. "Something I said?"

She swallowed her mouthful of amber liquor, shaking her head. "No, not...it wasn't you." She gave him a look, conveying what she couldn't bring herself to say to him.

His eyes widened, shoulders slumped, and a moaning grunt flew out of his mouth. "What the fuck did she say to you?"

She sniffled again. "She told me that if I cared about you and the kids at all, I'd respect our boundaries," she snipped, the words sounding silly as they left her lips, biting and cutting her all over again. "That I shouldn't impose on your personal time, I needed to give you time to be alone with your wife and kids." She swatted at a tear rolling down her cheek. "So no more long phone calls after work, or on your day off, if you called, I just…"

"Fuck," he whipped, slamming an open palm down on the bar. His nostrils flared and his jaw tightened as he spoke. "She has fucking nerve, man. This is bullshit." He turned to her, wild fury in his eyes. "In any of these conversations, did she tell you she's fucking our pediatrician?"

Olivia's eyes widened.

"Yeah," he snorted. "She doesn't know I know, I've been waiting for the right time to drop it on her, but fuck, this? She wants us to limit fucking platonic contact but she can screw the guy who vaccinated all four of our kids?"

"El," she breathed. "Oh, God, I'm so…"

"I wanted to talk to you," he snapped. "I needed you! I needed you, and you were…" he huffed. "No, I'm not letting her make you the bad guy. You thought you were doing the right thing, respecting my sham of a marriage." He got up, fished around in his pocket for money, and threw three twenty dollar bills on the bar. He hooked an arm under her and pulled her up. "Come on," he said. "Sober up in the car, you're coming home with me."

Olivia let herself be dragged through the bar by her partner, but she looked up at him and protested weakly, "But Kathy…"

He gave her a sharp look that shut her up instantly. "Oh, Kathy won't be a problem. She's leaving."

 _ **Christmas, Year Three**_

"Okay," Olivia tilted her head, her lower lip sucked between her teeth. "It, um...it's...special."

"It's crooked," Lizzie Stabler said, her head at the same cockeyed angle, her lips in a flat smile.

Olivia hummed and made a face. "Crooked...but special." She righted herself and ran around the large fir, bent down to grab the cord, and plugged it in. "How's it look?"

"Come see for yourself, Liv," Dickie Stabler laughed. His eight-year-old hands were clasped together as he bopped up and down excitedly.

Olivia trotted back over to stand between the twins and looked at the lit, decorated tree. Yes, it was crooked, but it was absolutely beautiful. "Think he'll like it?" she asked, one arm looped over the shoulders of each child.

"He'll love it," Maureen, the oldest of Elliot's children, called from the kitchen. The sixteen-year-old walked into the living room, a large tray of cookies in her hands. "Why is he working tonight, and you're not?"

"He, uh, he volunteered to take an extra shift," Olivia said. "He wouldn't tell me why."

He didn't have to tell her. She knew. He didn't particularly want to be home on Christmas Eve since the decorations hadn't yet been set, the tree hadn't gone up, and it simply didn't feel like Christmas this year. His wife's affair, the separation, the divorce, and all that came with it had taken quite a toll on him and the kids, and just after Thanksgiving, Kathy dropped her custody claim.

Elliot had become a full-time single father, with his demanding job, he had to find balance, and it meant that a lot of things had to be left on the backburner. One of them happened to be Christmas.

Olivia sighed, shaking away her thoughts, and smiled at the kids. "He'll be home soon," she assured.

Kathleen, the middle child, walked over and leaned on Olivia, dropping her head. "Thanks, Liv," she whispered. "Not just for decorating the entire house and baking cooking with us, but…" she sniffled. "For everything."

Olivia twisted a bit to her left, wrapping Kathleen in a hug. "Always," she said, kissing the girl's forehead. "I'm always gonna be here for you guys."

Kathleen turned and let her head fall deeper into Olivia's chest as she cried, cried for all that was lost and gained in the past year, cried because she missed her mother, and cried because she was so willing to let someone else fill the void.

"Yeah," Maureen chirped, chewing on a cookie. "Thanks, Liv. This is...well, we all thought we wouldn't have much of a Christmas this year. Dad hasn't really been in the mood, ya know? We've all been...Grinch-y."

Dickie laughed. "We didn't steal Christmas, Liv gave it to us." He hugged Olivia, squishing Kathleen between them.

"She certainly did."

They all turned at the voice, each child's face burst into a wide grin as they ran to hug their father. Olivia stayed where she was, with a sheepish expression and poised to run out the door if she had to, unsure if she'd something wrong.

Elliot kissed the crown of each kid's head, but his eyes remained fixed on Olivia's, staring almost into her soul. He swatted his children aside and made his way over to his partner, gaze holding steady. "You," he said, shaking his head in complete disbelief. He was barely an inch away from her when he let a tear fall. He sniffled and watched in awe as the lights from the tree danced on her face, making her glow. "You are really something, Benson." He reached up and rested his left hand against her, cupping her face and brushing the thin skin under her eye with his thumb. "Why?"

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "You know why," she replied.

"You hate Christmas," he spoke, his eyes narrowing curiously.

She smiled at him. "Just because the last two have been awkward and shitty doesn't mean I hate it. I just needed a reason to…" she froze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes searched hers, his hand still caressing her face. "You know why."

 _ **Christmas, Year Four**_

"And they heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight," Olivia read, and as she opened her mouth to speak the final line, the twins beat her to it.

Lizzie and Dickie chimed together, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Olivia laughed at their innocent excitement, closed the book, and then leaned down to each twin's bed, to kiss each one on the cheek. "Get some sleep, you know Santa won't come if you're still awake."

"Liv," Lizzie rolled her eyes as she settled back and put her head on her pillow. "We don't really believe…"

"I know," she interrupted, and then she whispered, "But we need to keep that a secret from your father. He still believes in Santa."

Dickie's eyes lit up. "He does?"

Olivia nodded. "And your dad is the best detective in the city, so if he believes then he must have proof, right?"

"Uh huh!" Dickie nodded fast. "Lizzie, go to sleep! Quick!"

Lizzie giggled as she snuggled under her quilt, not noticing the sneaky smile on Olivia's face.

Olivia chuckled softly as she shut off the light and softly left the room. She gasped with widened eyes as someone grabbed her. A hand clasped over her mouth as another tugged on her waist. She moaned into the palm around her face as she was spun around and pressed into the wall.

Lips replaced the hand, which traveled down her body and tugged on the band of her flannel pants. The kiss was frenzied, heated. His tongue delved into her mouth, swooping, swirling, both worshipping and claiming her. His left hand moved further south, slipping between her pants and her flesh, fingertips grazing her slit. He moaned as he felt slick, wet warmth, then chuckled as he urged two fingers into her. He felt her tense and hike up, and he made a forbidding noise as his right hand moved to grip her shoulder and keep her still.

She whimpered as his fingers worked inside of her, their thrusts and twists causing her body to burn and quake. Both of her hands rounded over his shoulders, squeezing tighter with every move of his wrist. "Elliot," she managed to speak between his possessing kisses.

"Shh," he silenced her with the noise and an even deeper kiss, and then pushed another finger into her. He moaned her name against her lips and tried to keep a steady rhythm as he inched them closer to the master bedroom. The door was open, making the job of guiding her into the room easier. They fumbled over each other's feet as he kept up a fast thrust and tried to peel away her clothes with his free hand. Giving up, he grunted and flung her down onto the mattress, managing to keep his fingers twisting in her.

"Oh, my God," she cried, now that her mouth was free.

He laughed proudly, loving how he affected her, how he made her feel. Only him. Just him. He knelt above her, his hand moving faster, thrusting deeper, he crooked them and bent them and watched her face with every single motion. "Fuck, you're beautiful like this," he breathed. "Sorry fo rthe speed, we need to get dressed, people'll be here soon, and, God, I need this." He grunted again. "I need you."

Her hands clawed at his arms as her back arched, she kept her eyes open and on him as long as she could, but when he swiped his thumb over her clit, her head flew back and her lids squeezed shut. Her mouth fell open and she made the most erotic sound he'd ever heard.

He kept moving his hand, stroking her clit, making her tremble and shiver and claw at him harder. Finally, he pulled his hand away and brought it to his lips. He looked right into her glazed-over eyes and grinned as he sucked every single digit into his mouth. Licking his lips, he began to peel off his shirt. One it was over his head and tossed aside, he fell forward, bracing her. He kissed her slowly, knowing she could still taste herself on his tongue. He felt her pulling at his sweatpants and moaned a low, soft, "Merry Christmas."

 _ **Christmas, Year Five**_

"This isn't something you thought you needed to tell me," Cragen spoke in a low voice, looking sternly at Elliot, "Just how long has this been going on?" He gripped the glass of non-alcoholic eggnog in his hand wishing for the first time in years that it was spiked.

Elliot swirled his own glass, Jack on the rocks, and sipped it slowly before answering his captain. "We knew the risks, so we...promised we'd only tell you...when we had to."

"And you have to," Cragen deduced, nodding once. "How far along is she?"

"What?" Elliot looked offended. He glanced around the room, the other party-goers were mingling unaware in their ugly sweaters and bright reds and greens, and then lowered his voice again. "I'm telling you and you think it's because she's pregnant?"

"She's a smart girl," Cragen spoke. "She wouldn't let herself get caught up in something this messy unless she didn't have a choice. I know guys like you, Catholic and careless, a meaningless fling with your partner and you knock her…"

"We're getting married," Elliot snapped. "How the fuck dare you come into my house, on tonight of all night's, when you think that little of me!"

Cragen wasn't listening, even though Elliot was yelling. He had gone white. "Married?" He gulped and brushed a hand down the middle of his green shirt, blinking fast. "You had to tell me...because…"

"Because she'll need to fill out new personnel forms, and didn't want to give you a heart attack when you saw why," Elliot bit. "Not to mention, you being the closest thing she's got to a father, we figured you'd want to be there! Now, I'm not so sure."

"No, Elliot, give me a minute here, okay?" Cragen sipped his nog in an attempt to calm down. "You just told me that you've been sleeping with your partner…"

"Dating," Elliot corrected. "I told you I was seeing her! Does sex come with that, yeah, but don't fucking cheapen our relationship."

"Sorry," Cragen's left eyebrow arched. "And you say you had no plans to tell me unless you had to, I apologize for assuming it was because she was…"

"Whatever," Elliot snapped. He tugged on his sweater, the action making the lights blink, and he chuckled slightly remembering the day they'd all gone to buy matching ugly sweaters and have their pictures taken for family cards. "I wouldn't…"

"You never answered me," Cragen interrupted. "How long?" He shot a look in Olivia's direction, and he couldn't help but smile. He really did love her like he would a daughter. When he heard Elliot's answer, though, his smile faded. "You were still married?"

"No," Elliot refuted, again sounding wounded, "Shit, man, what the hell? It was after I found out the truth about Kathy and Berkley, after she'd left. I was falling in love with her long before I made any kind of move, but I was legally, morally, and ethically fucking single. Thanks for thinking I'm an absolute prick."

Cragen gave an embarrassed shrug. "Well, the time frame there was…"

"Before I so much as held Olivia's hand, Kathy was gone," Elliot broke in again. "In every way that matters." He turned an eye toward Olivia, as Cragen had done a moment ago, and he smiled brightly, watching the lights on her sweater blink in rhythm as she danced with Dickie. "I'm so fucking in love with her," he whispered, "So do what you have to do. I can work up in homicide, or transfer to Queens. We knew this would happen eventually, we're prepared, so…"

"Elliot," Cragen took his turn to interrupt. "You said it yourself. I'm the closest thing she has to a father." He exhaled and gave Elliot's arm a slap. "So I have to do what any father would do."

Elliot quirked a brow.

After a chuckle, Cragen said, "Make sure she's safe, and happy." He leaned over. "If you ever hurt her, I swear to God, you'll be the next vic Warner opens up." He nodded as Elliot grinned. "I know, it'll never happen, but it needed to be said. As for work, you must've already talked to Tucker because you said you only told me so I wouldn't be shocked when I saw the changes in…"

"We know you, Cap," Elliot spoke. "We know it isn't bureau policy, or an NYPD one. It doesn't come from the Chief or IAB, the fraternization policy is yours. So we knew what you'd do, even if no one was forcing your hand."

"What I am going to do," Cragen said, drinking the last of his eggnog, "Is give you my blessing and watch this happen, because I have watched the two of you," he dropped the empty glass on a table to his left. "I was afraid of this. I didn't want this to happen, but I saw it coming. It's been this long and you've worked better than any team I've had or seen. So, for now…" He exhaled. "As I said, I look the other way and stay out of your personal life. But, Stabler, if you ever hurt her…"

"I once told her if anyone ever hurt her, I'd kill them," Elliot told Cragen. "I already have a divorce under my belt, I doubt I'll get into Heaven if I…"

"I get it," Cragen laughed. "But I had to warn you." He patted Elliot on the back and said, "Merry Christmas."

 **A:N/ the caught in the act fic I promised is coming tomorrow! ;)**


	6. Caught on Christmas

**A/N: When someone gets caught in the act, it frees someone else to make their Christmas wish come true!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, I just own this story about them. Don't sue me. K?**

The moans and cries are still ringing in his ears as he drives, his foot pressing a little harder on the gas than necessary. "Shit," he spits out, the image burned in his mind, seared behind his eyelids, taunting him every time he blinks.

Her body wrapped around someone else, her head thrashing, another man's name on her lips. He chuckles as he changes lanes and shakes his head, finding the irony in the moment, how she'd been the one to accuse, to imply and suggest. "Fuck," he says on a heavy sigh, slapping the blinker and pulling over, parallel parking in a spot across the street from the one place he could find peace tonight.

He gets out of his car and she's already outside on her stoop, waiting. He smiles, a small but meaningful one, and waves at her.

She waves back, the sleeve of her sweater hiding most of her hand. She watches with a pounding heart as he moves faster, runs across the road and up the steps, and that same heart stops altogether when he moves in and kisses her cheek.

"Thanks," he whispers. "They inside?"

She nods, her voice lost with her ability to move, reeling from the feel of his lips on her skin. She feels herself being pulled backward through the glass doors to her building, down the hall, to the left, and she stops when he does. They're in front of her door, his key is his hand aimed at the lock, but his head turns. "What?" she croaks out.

"What did you tell them?" he asks, though there's a waver in his voice that isn't entirely from the cold, and he knows she can hear it.

She shrugs. "Just that you guys were spending Christmas Eve with me, here," she says, "We stopped and bought a few things, including your traditional family jammies." She laughs but it fades. "They don't...they don't know Kathy isn't coming."

He scoffs, rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, and asks, "Did they say anything? You never pick them up from school unless something's wrong, were they…"

"They're fine," she interrupts. Her eyes turn toward the apartment door, the small wreath staring at her mockingly, and she says, "Before we go in there, how are you, really? You caught your wife in bed with…"

"Please," he holds up a hand, dismissive and annoyed. "Don't want to think about that, okay?" He exhales. "I'm...shocked. I'm fucking furious, but I'm not...I'm not upset, and I'm not bitter. I'm actually…" he turns to look at her and he smirks. "Relieved. Takes the weight off of me for...other things."

She averts her gaze before he can see that she's blushing, thinking of moments of weakness and impulsive bursts during undercover stints that got a bit too real. "Go, Elliot," she whispers. "They're gonna burn down my kitchen if we leave them alone any longer than…"

"What?" he chuckles, turning the key, but as he enters the apartment, his question is answered. His four children are in her small kitchen, covered in sugar and colored icing. There's a thin layer of flour on her counter, sprinkles and chocolate chips strewn across the marble. He scratches his head and unconsciously bops to the beat of the Christmas music filtering through the room. "What is going on?" he raises a brow and looks at his partner.

She grins. "Your typical Stabler Christmas Eve," and then she shrugs. "Minus one, and crammed into three rooms instead of, what, eight?"

He rolls his eyes. "It's plus one, Liv," he says, looping an arm around her and dragging her toward the mess his kids have made. "You know, you're cleaning this up when we're done, right?"

"Of course, Daddy," Kathleen, the middle child, smiles as she speaks. But then she notices her father is practically hugging the brunette to his right, and after looking around once, she notices. "Mom's not with you?"

Maureen, the oldest, drops a spoonful of cookie dough onto a pan as she says, "You know," and then she looks up. "She told you?"

Elliot narrows his eyes, tilts his head. "You know? What...what do you know?"

"Um," Maureen wipes her hands on a nearby towel and walks around the counter, toward her father. She lowers her voice and pulls at him to get him away from the younger kids. "I know," she begins, "That Mom...she's been cheating on you." She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. "I thought I was wrong, just imagining...but yesterday, I heard her. She was on the phone, she said...she told him she loved him, and that she was going to tell you when...when the time…"

"Shh," Elliot wraps his arms around Maureen, kisses the top of her head, and says, "Everything's gonna be okay. I'm right here, I've got you, and Liv…" he turns, looks for her, and when he finds her, his heart jumps.

Olivia is laughing, helping the twins decorate gingerbread cops, who he overhears they have named Olivia and Elliot.

"You can tell her now," Maureen prods, gaining back her father's attention. "You can tell her the truth, right? It's okay to, now, isn't it?"

Elliot looks at his daughter quizzically. "Truth about…"

"Dad," Maureen rolls her eyes. "I'm seventeen. I know. Mom's not the only one who talks on the phone too loudly. We have thin walls." She smiles. "We love her, too, ya know. And we...we're gonna be okay, just tell the truth."

Elliot kisses his daughter's cheek, and then ushers her back to the laughing, singing, cookie crew. "No, pumpkin, Mom...isn't with me. She...she, um, is with someone else tonight." He brushes Kathleen's hair back. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he whispers. "Mom is…"

"Leaving," Dickie, the only boy, adds, and the crack of the candy cane he breaks snaps the silence. He stabs the round ball of cookie dough in front of him with the peppermint and then looks up. "I thought something was up with Liv came to get us, but since you haven't been home in a while, I thought…" he shakes his head. "Why? On Christmas?"

"Hey, spud, your mother…" Elliot licks his lips and eyes Maureen, nodding at her, hearing her voice remind him to tell the truth. "Your mother fell in love with someone else. She...she couldn't help it." He closes his eyes and he says, "Neither of us could help it."

Olivia gasps softly. Her heart feels as broken as Dickie's candy cane. "You…" she begins, but Lizzie's nine-year-old voice asks the question first.

"You're not in love with Mommy anymore? You love someone else, too?" Lizzies eyes shine behind her glasses. There's sadness and a bit of hope in them. "Who?" She sends a look at the person she is sure it is, but sees no sign of assurance from her. Her head turns back to her father. "Daddy?"

Elliot smiles at her, and instead of answering her, he simply says, "Love can't be controlled, guys. It can't be explained. When it happens...it's for reasons only God knows, and it's a gift. It comes when we need it, from the person we are meant to be with. Your mother and I...loved each other once. You are all made from...pure love, but it wasn't...it was never strong, and we both finally found the people that give us that strong, perfect love." He taps his son's nose, and kisses Lizzie's cheek. "And yes, on Christmas, because we belong with the people we love on Christmas."

"So, Mom's with him, right now?" Kathleen asks, her eyes twitching, confused and trying not to cry.

Elliot nods, but he walks around the counter and loops his arms around Olivia's waist. "We'll deal with everything that this means...later. But right now, we need to finish these cookies, and get into our matching pajamas, and we have a movie to watch, don't we?"

The kids nod and laugh and try to keep their spirits up, and as they begin to pile the candy and sprinkles on the wet icing, Maureen catches her father's eye and mouths, "Tell her!"

Elliot takes a breath and moves Olivia, still in his arms, toward the small, lit and decorated tree. He inhales again, more sharply, and he sweeps his arms from her hips to her shoulders, down her arms, and he grips her hands.

"You know where my gun is," she quips, raising a brow. "No need for the pat-down."

He laughs but then shakes his head. "She did me a favor, really," he says sheepishly, and he squeezes her hands. "Us." He looks up, into her eyes, and he smiles. "Not exactly how I planned on doing this, but...believe me, I planned on it, just…"

"Who is she?" Olivia asks, her pain hidden by the soft smile she offers, knowing he needs a friend right now. The look on his face makes her laugh, but as she tries to pull her hands away, he squeezes them tighter. "El, over there, you said...neither of you could help falling in love with someone else. Who is she?"

Elliot looks into her brown eyes for a moment, and then he speaks. "You've been my partner for, what, four years?" He licks his lips and pulls her closer. "In those four years, I think we got to know practically everything about each other, you and me...we have each other's…"

"Elliot," she interrupts, her heart hammering and her palms starting to sweat. She pulls at them, hoping he can't tell, but he yanks back, holding them firmly. "Who is she?"

"In the last four years," he says, his voice low, "Every single day, you got a piece of me that no one else ever has, and this afternoon, when we were leaving work, I promised myself...I would give the rest to you, tonight, on…"

"Christmas," she breaths.

He nods and smirks. "I went home to tell Kathy...that I wanted a divorce. You know, I've been bouncing back and forth between your place and the cribs for weeks, it was...it was over. I was gonna tell her that...that I was in love with you."

Her wide unblinking eyes stared into his. "What?"

He laughs at her and moves closer. "It happened, little by little, every day, every night, until I couldn't deny it anymore. I was, at first, because I was married, and then...because of our job, but now, I...I wanted this, you, tonight, and if you...you can stop me, or tell me you hate me."

She blinks and her laugh breaks the tension as the tears form in her eyes. "I don't hate you," she whispers.

"So, uh, don't hit me for this," he shrugs. He moves. He blinks. He moves again.

She moans softly when his lips hit hers, and the kiss is soft, quick, perfect. She doesn't hit him, but her hands do finally pull away from his, only to loop around his waist. It's over as quickly as it began, but they're staring at each other. "You were...you were really…"

"Leaving her," he nods. "Like I said, she did us a favor. She saved me from being the bad guy, and she practically gave us permission to...admit...the truth." He kisses the tip of her nose. "I love you."

She sniffles, the emotions finally releasing, and she nods. "I love you, too," she whispers.

He wipes her eyes with the pads of his fingers, and he kisses her quickly again. "Merry Christmas, Liv."

 **A/N: Next, a Christmas Dinner that is interrupted by three strange visitors!**


	7. Dinner Interruptus

**A/N: Christmas dinner at the Stablers comes with a few uninvited guests!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, I just own this story about them. Don't sue me. K?**

The lights from the tree blink in time with the Christmas carols blasting from the surround sound. She shifts, moving over and out of the direct line of the glare. With a heavy sigh, she looks down into her mug of spiked nog, shakes her head, and laughs at her situation. She brings a hand to her head and sinks deeper into the couch, unaware someone is watching her.

She feels him staring as the song changes, she smirks when she senses that he's moving closer, and she slowly turns her head to meet his gaze when he plops beside her. "Don't," she warns, but her lips curl, her eyes sparkle.

He wags his eyebrows, licks his lips, and moves in anyway, willing to take whatever consequences she will give. His lips land on hers and they both moan, his left hand presses into the back of the sofa as his right smooths up her body and cups the back of her neck.

He pulls away first, though it's only because they have guests and kissing her any longer would mean a public showing of more than just affection. "All better?" he asks, a cocky grin on his face. He always cheers her up; his kiss makes everything better.

She raises an eyebrow. "Your ex-wife showed up," she says with an air of annoyance. "With my ex-boyfriend, I might add. So no, not all better."

He chuckles and squeezes the nape of her neck, listening to her soft moan, easing some of the tension. "We have enough food, plenty of room," he tells her. "And it's not bothering me, baby." He leans in again and kisses her once more, a deeper more soulful moment, and he licks her lips as he retreats. "So fucking sweet."

"That's the eggnog," she breathes, though her free hand reaches for his shoulder, and she begins to pull him closer.

He shakes his head. "No, Liv, it's all you, baby," he whispers back, and his lips are on hers again before she can respond.

They lose focus, lose track of time, forget about their guests, and within a few seconds, there's a mug and a puddle of nog on the hardwood, she's flush against the couch, and he's nearly on top of her with one leg between hers and the other around her.

The clearing throat is what breaks them apart and they look at the intrusive eyes of a mildly amused but very irritated blonde. "Sorry, Elliot, but I don't see any mistletoe," she speaks, folding her arms.

Elliot licks his lips again but this time it's out of sheer frustration. He wraps his arms around Olivia, keeping her in front of his rather large and potentially embarrassing bulge. He swivels her around, sits up straight, and says, "We don't need mistletoe, Kathy."

Kathy purses her lips and tilts her head, and then she asks another question. "Do you need help setting the…"

"Table's been set since noon," Olivia interrupts, her hand skimming up and down Elliot's chest. "Food's almost ready, cookies and pies are done and on the counter, we got this." She rests her head on Elliot's shoulder and gives her best placating smile. "Are you enjoying your date? How did you meet Kurt?"

Kathy stiffened. "He was doing a piece...some exposé on drugs being sold in hospitals, and when he came to Mercy, he talked to a few of us, and…"

"You know he dated Liv?" Elliot interjects. He grins smugly at Kathy as he kisses Olivia's forehead. "I mean, years ago, before we…"

"And only for a few weeks," Olivia adds, a sardonic smile on her face as she snuggles in Elliot's lap. She knows what he's doing and she quickly becomes a willing participant. "But still, he…"

"Seriously?" Kathy scoffs, she rolls her eyes and lets her arms uncross. "Again, I come second to you." She gestures to Olivia and storms away, feeling less like trying to come between her ex and his current and more like drowning her sorrows in the eggnog.

Elliot and Olivia laugh as Kathy sulks away, and they turn toward each other intent on another kiss, but they break apart as another sound distracts them.

"Who the hell is that, now?" Olivia asks, annoyed. "Everyone's here!"

Elliot shrugs as he swats her ass hard and growls lowly at her. "Let's go find out, huh?" He kisses her lips fast and gives her a playful shove as he stands, then takes her hand and pulls her up. He makes her dance to the cheerful music as they head for the door, together, and he kisses her fiercely as he grabs the knob.

As they see who's standing on the stoop, they stop dancing. Elliot's grip on Olivia tightens, but it's little more than an attempt to control his temper. "Why?" is the only word that comes of his mouth.

Not "hello," not "Merry Christmas," but simply… "Why?"

The man on the porch takes off his hat, placing it almost solemnly over his heart. "I needed to explain."

"Now? Tonight?" Elliot huffs, his chest puffs out defensively and his nostrils flare. His dark green shirt crinkles and his bright red tie flips upward as a gust of wind blows past them. "Are you serious?"

The man looks at Olivia, hoping to have her on his side, but he's met with a blank expression that he can't decipher. "Well, it's Christmas," the man states with a small, hopeful smile. "If anyone can be gracious on Christmas, it's you, Elliot."

Of course, the man would use Elliot's religion against him. Elliot turns and whispers something in Olivia's ear, and she nods before kissing his cheek. He watches her leave his side, and when he's sure she is mingling with guests and doling out jobs to the kids, he steps out into the frigid night and closes the door behind him.

Arms crossed, due to fury and freezing, he juts his chin. "Explain," he barks. "Fast."

The man exhales and puts his hat on, figuring out that he isn't staying long. "I was just…"

"Doing your job," Elliot interrupts. "We heard that excuse. Me and Liv, we were just doing our jobs, too. No one got hurt because of us doing our jobs. You made a choice, and it had nothing to do with your job!"

The man clears his throat. "I'm sorry you see it that way," he says, and he holds out both hands. "Put yourself in my shoes. You get the call that two of your best detectives are chasing a lead and the lead is you, you find out why, you panic...but you know what you have to do, don't you?"

"Don't give me that," Elliot sneers, his eyes are narrow, his arms fold tighter in the cold. "She trusted you! We both trusted you!" He shakes his head. "You waited until we got the collar, right? Until the case of the century was closed on your watch, and then you up and leave? When we needed you the most? Some captain, Cragen!"

"Elliot, I couldn't effectively lead the unit anymore," Cragen almost whispers. "When my name came up in your investigation, I had to act fast. I couldn't jeopardize your case, or the one I'd been working on for decades...and I know what you're both thinking, but you're wrong! I swear, Elliot, you're wrong."

Elliot takes a step. "Really? We're wrong about you keeping that fact that her father was a cop a secret? We're wrong about you knowing exactly who she was when she walked into the unit? Oh, and I guess we're wrong about the fact that you're the one that fucking sold her out? To Porter? That dirty agent meant more to you than we did!"

"No!" Cragen yells, and he's almost crying as he speaks. "No, God, Elliot! Okay, you're right, I knew who she was when I hired her, but I didn't find out about her father until you did! I never gave Porter any information he didn't already have from someone else! The only thing I am guilty of is working a cold case...one I never thought would interfere with anything current, ever! I'm sorry you both had to find out that I was responsible. I know she blames me for…"

"She doesn't blame you," Elliot speaks, it's soft and genuine. "Is that why you took off? Because you thought she'd blame you?"

Cragen is silent. He blinks once.

"She's upset that you didn't believe her mother," Elliot states. "God, but she knows that we're probably the only two cops in the world that would believe a drunk complaint. She's fully aware that back then…"

"I should have believed her," Cragen says, and he takes off his hat again and steps toward Elliot. "I left because I couldn't look her in the eyes after she found out I was the one who took her mother's first statement, knowing that I could have saved her a lot of pain."

Elliot takes a breath. "Go inside, tell her that," he reaches for the doorknob. "While you're at it, tell Munch and Fin why you abandoned ship. It's been months, man, they're a little bit pissed off, too."

Cragen inhales as he watches Elliot pull open the door, and he slowly steps into the foyer. He looks around at the lavishly decorated house, the long table that greets him further in the room is set for ten, but he spies Kathleen and Maureen Stabler shifting things around and adding three extra plates. He smiles as he sees Olivia making her way to the table carrying a beautifully browned turkey on a platter, and after she sets it down he chuckles. Her shirt is the same color as Elliot's, the bow in her hair the same red as his tie. He then looks at everyone else, Kathy and a man he thinks looks vaguely familiar, Elliot's twins, Munch and Fin, and their dates.

"Go," Elliot ushers, nudging Cragen forward. "Sit." He makes his way toward the head of the table, takes the knife that Olivia hands him, and he makes an exaggerated face as he starts carving the turkey.

All eyes are on Cragen, but no one speaks, it's not time.

Cragen nods politely at everyone as he takes off his coat and sits on a chair near the end of the table. He feels the eyes on him again and he turns, and he says, "Merry Christmas, John."

"Still Jewish," Munch replies with a nod. "What are you doing here?"

"Apologizing," Cragen says, and then he adds, "To my family." He takes the offered bowl of fresh rolls, picks one out for himself, and then passes it along. "Who, um...who's running the unit?"

"Guy named Riggs," Munch says, scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Tucker offered the gig to Elliot, but he was pretty adamant about staying with Liv."

"Yeah, uh, he would be," Cragen interrupts, taking the potatoes from Munch. "What happened, while I was gone?"

Munch grabs the salad bowl and makes himself a plate, and then signals someone down the other end of the table to pass the dressing. "Tucker backed off, believe it or not," he says. "He was invited to this shin-dig, but he already had plans with his family in Colorado."

"Tucker?" Cragen scoffs. "Okay, what else? I mean, fill me in, please."

Munch opens his mouth but before he can speak, there's a cling-clang from the end of the table.

"Excuse me," Elliot shouts, clinking a spoon against a glass. "Thank you all, so much, for being with us tonight. We love you all…" he sends a look toward Kurt, who looks pale and uncomfortable, "Well, okay, not you, pal…" he shrugs as the table erupts in laughter. "You're all here, tonight...some came as a surprise, some were more of a shock," he looks at Cragen, "But you're family, and Liv, the kids, and I are thankful for all of you. Merry Christmas, everyone," he says, and he raises his glass.

Everyone follows suit, toasting, and when it settles, the low drone of chatter and chewing starts. Cragen looks at Munch again. "Pardon me, a minute," he says, and he tosses his napkin on the empty plate in front of him. He slips his chair out and stands, moves to the far left, and rests his arms on Olivia's shoulders, bending to hug her as she sits.

Olivia is frozen, her eyes find Elliots, and as they well with tears, she hears Cragen whisper, "I'm so sorry," and he squeezes her tighter. She sees Elliot smile and nod, and then closes her eyes as she turns in her chair and hugs him back.

Elliot smiles, watching. His family really is complete now. Almost. His eyes twinkle, then, and he decides that this year, New Year's Eve will be extra special.

 **A/N: Happy Christmas Eve, everyone!**


End file.
